7 Days Left

“Chess isn’t actually why I’m here, though,” Svenar said grinning like a kid, before turning to Minul with a slightly more sober face. “Unfortunately, this doesn’t include you, I’m sorry your Majesty. But,” he turned to the others. “Hildrid is gathering a small party of the tethered, and tether-adjacent people,” he nodded to Leif, “into a small gathering in a couple of days and hoped you would come. It’s going to be in the evening, though.”

Leif winced, “I’m sorry Master Svenar but this trip is business for me. I have to be up bright and early most days, though, I might stop by for a few minutes, shake a few hands.”

Svenar nodded understandingly turning to Saif.

“Nah,” Saif said. “I’d rather not get swamped by people trying to figure out their next step in advancement.”

“I might be able to get them to stop,” Svenar offered weakly, though, everyone knew it wasn’t really true.

“Still, I think I’ll skip, thanks for the offer, though,” Saif nodded to Svenar.

“It’s all good,” the warp tethered replied before turning to Minul. “Again your Majesty, I apologize that you’re not invited. It’s a tethered thing.”

“Hildrid doesn’t like me, Svenar,” Minul waved it away. “Besides, I’ll have meetings all of this afternoon and, likely, for the rest of the trip. I’m not sure I’d be much fun at a party.”

“Thank you for being so gracious,” Svenar said, a smile glinting in his eyes before someone else caught his attention. He nodded to the table before getting up and making his way over to Ayvir.

They all watched in silence as he clasped the younger master in a tight hug, the wide-eyed surprise on Ayvir’s face speaking volumes.

“This might sound harsh,” Leif muttered as Svenar pulled Ayvir into arms-length, “But Svenar feels weird when he’s happy.”

Ayvir ducked out from Svenar’s hands as the sixty-year-old man tried tussling his hair. “It does sound harsh,” Minul muttered. “But I can’t truly disagree with you,” she wasn’t that familiar with Svenar but he’d always been a mostly emotionally repressed figure. Always standing at the ready with a neutral expression.

“He’s supposedly a pretty empathetic teacher,” Saif said. “But I don’t think this is what they meant. He’s like a teenager in love for the first time.”

Minul frowned slightly as a strange woman sauntered over to the older tethered and wrapped an arm around his waist. She blinked realizing it was Hildrid with her hair down and a smile on her face. She exchanged a wide-eyed glance with Saif both of their shock clearly displayed on their faces.

Leif snorted a laugh before gaining control over himself, “Come on, it’s not that bad.”

“Leif,” Saif drawled. “She looks at least a century younger. It’s like she’s a different person. Are we sure she doesn’t have a child somewhere?”

Minul winced, “That’s not funny, Saif.”

“Oh, right,” the ankirian muttered sheepishly, obviously recalling what had caused the two tethereds initial breakup.

Svadr approached bowing down to whisper in Minul’s ear, “Your majesty, it’s time to prepare for the Lords’ Council meeting.”

“Thank you,” Minul replied quietly. She slapped her thigh lightly, “Well, looks like my day-off is gone.”

Saif cheered her on with a cup as Leif got up as well, “I have a few people I should probably see to as well. Your Majesty, Ankirian.”

If Saif replied to Leif, Minul didn’t hear it as she stepped away walking quickly to her apartments, causing a seeming exodus from the garden as the nobles and a few tethered that had seemingly been idly chatting in the garden suddenly found the urgent need to be inside.

With the guards flanking her, she returned to her room and went through a rapid check that she was ready for the meeting.

“You spineless, sun-dried, piss-drinker!”

Minul winced signaling the guards that lined the room and gestured to the red-faced Lord Sworden. The man had gone gray early in his age and his hair was nearly completely white despite only being in his late forties. Currently, he was looming over the Lord Jored, red-faced, spitting both saliva and vitriol into the middle-aged woman’s face as he swung a pointed fist through the air inches from her prominent nose.

“Remove him from the room,” Minul commanded. “Lord Sworden, if you cannot participate in this meeting with the proper dignity of a Lord, I will have you removed from your office.”

“You try me, you sick little cunt!” The man was clearly seeing completely red, Minul realized. She doubted he even knew who he was talking to. “I shoul—“ his hateful rant was cut short as two men, each twice as big and half his age, grabbed him under the shoulder and forcefully removed him from the room. “Let go of me you sunken faced swanling!”

There was a long moment of silence as the doors shut on his last insult, Minul pursed her lips. “Well, I think we can all agree that we could use a break after that.”

For the first time, the entire table let out murmurs of agreement, each and every single councilor agreeing with each other. A break would be nice. Minul caught Inga stifling a yawn into her sleeve as she leaned back in her chair.

Minul sighed as she stepped away from the table and smoothed out the skirt of her dress. She’d decided to start the meeting off with something simple. There were a few lesser contracts on the some of the mines near both Jored and Sworden territory. These weren’t great performers, it shouldn’t matter to a Lord’s family where these contracts went as they didn’t earn enough to significantly weigh their budgets.

Or so she’d thought.

When she’d brought them up for renegotiation, Jored had put in a ceremonial offer as was expected of her. Sworden had then proceeded to get angry and call her out for trying to take what was rightfully his. She’d gotten angry and he’d devolved into complete insanity as a simple mining contract turned into nearly twenty minutes of debate before Jored finally realized how stupid the situation was and withdrew.

That had been the wrong move, apparently.

Minul maneuvered her way over to Jored who was standing at the refreshments rubbing her forehead. “I’m sorry for how that went,” Minul offered gently as she stopped next to the older woman. “I didn’t think he would split the conversation that badly.”

“Well, split it he did,” Jored mimed a strike with the edge of her palm. “I’d heard he’d been getting bad, but that was on another level entirely,” she admitted.

“He makes the rest of you seem half-way reasonable,” Minul muttered.

Jored straightened glaring at the Queen. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

“What do you mean?”

“I know what you’re trying to do. But you’re not going to bully me into your faction.”

Queen Minul II looked at her for a long moment, “I don’t think you’re stupid, not really. I do think you have trouble seeing the greater picture. You’re too busy fighting over pieces of the cake to realize that it’s getting smaller and smaller every year.”

Jored snorted in derision, “You don’t have to tell us what you think, your disdain comes through clearly.”

Minul eyed the Lord as she walked away, feeling half-way settled between her decision and unnerved. Was the reason she had so much trouble gathering the Lords’ Council to her that she was unable to hide her disdain?

She frowned, looking down at the cup in her hand. But no, they’d been fighting her since she’d been a hopeful twenty-year-old fresh to the throne. Before she’d ever sat in on one of their meetings. When she’d first seen how Ankiria was slowly methodically slicing pieces of their lesser countries cakes and taking it for themselves. The only reason Elusria was even halfway independent currently was the death-grip she’d maintained on the lumber trade.

Being one of the only country with rime oak, and holding the largest mass of forest in the entire United Alliance had granted her just enough leverage to fight back against Ankiria’s small bites.

When she’d been a kid, her mother had sold their last worthwhile gold mine to Ankiria for the use of some of their masters on some task or another. She’d traded long-term financial instability for short-term gains and the Lords’ Council had nearly invited an ankirian lumber company—something that didn’t really exist in the fucking desert country—to harvest in Elusria’s forests.

Minul shook her head and made her way around the table. She was done trying to convince these assholes to do what was best for them. Stopping next to Inga, Minul cleared her throat causing the noble to jerk slightly before looking up.

The dark rings under Inga’s eyes weren’t too noticeable under her makeup from far away, but this close, Minul could plainly see through it. Combined with her slightly rumpled clothes, hair that was just a touch out of order, and a slight slouch, it painted a telling picture.

“Inga,” Minul said. “I’m sorry that I have to inform you that we couldn’t quite fit all your guards into the barracks at the estate. As it seems they’ve had to shelter outside in the gardens, though, they will remain nearby. Unfortunately, the summer estate was not designed with so many nobles bringing their own guards in mind.”

Inga rolled her eyes, “I guess that’s fine. With so many guards nearby there’s nothing anyone can really do. We basically have an entire army on the estate.”

Minul frowned before fixing her expression. She’d expected the Lord to piss herself in anger, not this lukewarm response. Minul cleared her throat, “Are you okay, Lord? Is there something wrong with your apartments?”

Inga sat up straighter and turned her full attention to Minul, “Uh, no. I’m just not the best sleeper in a new bed,” she smiled gently, which took the Queen aback, “It takes me a while to get used to new sleeping quarters. This always happens to me.”

Minul smiled in return, “I’m sorry about that, please do let me know if you need anything.”

Inga started to shake her head before seemingly thinking better of it, “Actually, could you bring in more pillows or cushions?”

Minul hesitated, “Shouldn’t be an issue,” she waved for Svadr to approach, “Inga requests more cushions for her apartments.”

“Immediately, your majesty,” Svadr nodded and temporarily stepped out of the door, likely sending a lesser servant.

“Oh, I should warn Arrja,” Inga said, nearly jumping out of her chair. “Then she’ll have the cushions ready for me.”

Minul watched as Inga stepped away from the table, getting a few feet away before seeming to remember she could summon the servant to her. The Queen hesitated, narrowing her eyes as she stared after the departing lord. Just as she was about to sit down, Svadr came rushing over to her.

“Saif says it’s an emergency.”